The Ned M'Keown Stories: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume ThreeCarleton, William
General
The Ned M'Keown Stories: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume Three
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“He should have said contrition, confession, and satisfaction,” observed
Father Peter.
“Pettier, will you keep your theology to yourself,” replied Father Ned,
“and let us come to the plot without interruption.”
“Plot!” exclaimed Father Peter; “I'm sure it's no rebellion that there
should be a plot in it, any way!”
“_Tace_,” said Father Ned--“_tace_, and that's Latin for a candle.”
“I deny that,” said the curate; “tace is the imperative mood from
_tacco_, to keep silent. Tacco, taces, tacui, tacere, tacendi, tacendo
tac--”
“Ned, go on with your story, and never mind that deep larning of
his--he's almost cracked with it,” said the superior: “go on, and never
mind him.”
“'Well,' says he, 'I'm still willing to marry you, particularly as you
feel conthrition for what you were going to do.' So, with this, they
all gother about her, and, as the officer was a fine fellow himself,
prevailed upon her to let the marriage be performed, and they were
accordingly spliced as fast as his Reverence could make them.
“'Now, Jack,' says the dog, 'I want to spake with you for a minute--it's
a word for your own ear;' so up he stands on his two hind legs, and
purtinded to be whisp'ring something to him; but what do you think?--he
gives him the slightest touch on the lips with his paw, and that instant
Jack remimbered the lady and everything that happened betune them.
“'Tell me, this instant,' says Jack, seizing him by the throat, 'where's
the darling, at all, at all, or by this and by that you'll hang on the
next tree!'
“Jack spoke finer nor this, to be sure, but as I can't give his tall
English, the sorra one of me will bother myself striving to do it.
“'Behave yourself,' says the dog, 'just say nothing, only follow me.'
“Accordingly, Jack went out with the dog, and in a few minutes comes in
again, leading along with him, on the one side, the loveliest lady that
ever eye beheld, and the dog, that was her brother, metamurphied into a
beautiful, illegant gintleman, on the other.
“'Father Flannagan,' says Jack, 'you thought a little while ago you'd
have no marriage, but instead of that you'll have a brace of them;' up
and telling the company, at the same time, all that had happened to him,
and how the beautiful crathur that he had brought in with him had done
so much for him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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